


Iris Zero

by wonker8



Category: Iris Zero, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Crew is family, Drabbles, Gen, M/M, SPOILERS FOR STID, based in Iris Zero verse, implied suicide, is it still considered spoilers?, lots of deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonker8/pseuds/wonker8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everyone in this universe seems to have a strange power. They call it 'Iris,' although none of them can adequately explain to me why. It is the power to see into others' souls. A strange defect in their eyes that allow them to see more than what is apparent. This power ranges from the ability to read someone’s thoughts to seeing the future." </p><p>- From Spock Prime's letter to his Captain</p><p>(A collection of drabbles based on the manga <i>Iris Zero</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spock Prime's Letter

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading the manga [Iris Zero](http://www.mangaupdates.com/series.html?id=39406) and talking to my sister, when this sort of came into existence. The idea is that every human has an Iris, and all aliens have different forms of Irises that doesn't involve their eyes. And well, I don't really have a plot or anything in mind. I just wanted something cute and fluffy. So it's just going to be a collection of drabbles. 
> 
> If you do read it, I hope you enjoy it!

My dearest Jim,

I am certain that this letter, like many others before this one, will never reach you. I am, after all, no longer in the same time line nor anywhere near our own universe. However, I have always found that chronologicing one's thought, much like creating a Captain's Log, is a good way to meditate. 

In all of our travels together, Jim, I had believed that we have met every strange thing that can ever be found. I never thought I would encounter something as... strange and entrancing as this 'Iris.' 

Everyone in this universe seems to have a strange power. They call it 'Iris,' although none of them can adequately explain to me why. It is the power to see into others' souls. A strange defect in their eyes that allow them to see more than what is apparent. This power ranges from the ability to read someone’s thoughts to seeing the future. 

Imagine, Jim! Being able to predict the danger before it happens. Our adventures would have taken such drastic turns, were that the case! I wonder if we could have prevented many of our tragedies if only we had such a thing like the Iris. Or perhaps we would have bonded closer as a crew with the use of this power. Oh, how you would laugh at my romanticism at this thought. 

But I am certain I know what you would ask. What did these people lose in return for this power? 

They have lost the ability to connect, Jim. They rely so much on their powers to tell them everything that they have forgotten what it is like to sit and talk with one another. They know not what it feels to have one's companion next to them, playing chess. They know not the trust that comes with sharing one's secret. Oh, how foolish I must sound to you, Jim, using unlogical words such as these to describe this event. It appears that old age (and you, my friend) has made me quite mellow.

But the powers of Iris are truly a spectacle to behold.

I only wish you were here to share in wonderment.

Forever yours,  
Spock


	2. Chris Pike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied suicide.
> 
> Chris Pike's Iris: The ability to see the future.

When Chris Pike first realized that the flicker of sights that he saw were actually parts of the future, he had been ecstatic. Finally, he knew what his Iris was! He had run back home, arms waving proudly, just so he could tell his mother. But every time he looked into her face, all he saw was a cold look of a woman who was dead, overlaying the image of his mother's tired smiles. 

So he tried his best. He really did. Tried to make her feel like she wasn't alone. Tried to make her understand that he loved her best in the world.

The image didn't disappear.

And three days later, his third grade teacher sat him down to explain gently to him that things were going to be okay. That his mother did love him. She just had to go away for a short while. He didn't bother telling them he already knew what really happened. She had no plans to tell him either. And they both were content with that as Chris was taken in by his aunt and uncle.

It was the first and most bitter lesson Chris learned about his Iris. The future, no matter how tragic, how bright, could never be changed.

*

Chris did not know what it meant when he looked at someone and they had no future. Sometimes, he didn't see someone's future for a while, but everyone had a future. He always saw it eventually. And sometimes, it didn't even have to be humans for him to see it. Buildings, animals, everything had a future. 

So when he realized that George Kirk did not have a future, he couldn't help but to befriend him. Because it made no sense. Why didn't George have a future? Because out of everyone, George was the one who was the smartest, the brightest, the funniest. Everyone always talked about how far George was going to go, because he actually had ambitions. 

“You're too hung up on the idea of predicting people's lives,” George had told him once when they got drunk (illegally, yes. But what kind of self-respecting 17 year olds didn’t drink?). “Sometimes, thing's aren't as clear cut. Sometimes, things aren't meant to be predicted.” Then with a wicked grin that inspired a strange welling of courage in Chris, George stated, “I don't believe in no-win scenario, you know. And seeing someone's future... Well, that sounds pretty no-win to me.”

At first, he had been inspired by the speech. But it didn’t take long for it to trouble Chris. Because seeing people’s futures was how Chris related to people. How was he supposed to relate to someone who didn’t have a future? How was he supposed to talk to George? How was he supposed to stay friends with him, when he didn’t know what the future held? And after a while, Chris realized that it made no difference whether George had a future or not, whether Chris saw the future or not. Because now, it was tied to Chris's, and George had to stay, had to share a future with Chris.

*

When Captain Alexander Marcus stood in front of George and Chris, offering them the universe, the two foolish boys had jumped at the chance. Because Chris saw clearly of the wonderful future waiting for them. Of adventures and of explorations. Of things not yet discovered and battles for honour. Chris fell in love right away. George took a bit of convincing. But in the end, the duo signed up and found themselves in San Francisco, ready for the start of the Starfleet Academy.

*

The first time they met Winona, Chris did a double take. Because there was a small baby boy in her arms and another boy (a little older than the baby) clutching to her pants. Both boys looked suspiciously a lot like George. And that was when he realized that yes, George did have a future. And his future was Starfleet. His future was Winona. Written where Chris would have never guessed in a million years.

He would come to regret terribly asking George to join Starfleet.

*

He saw the end of USS Kelvin only too late. He would later learn that was because Nero was never supposed to happen. The ship shook and changed, and Chris could only stare in horror as he saw the ship explode. And all around him, he saw death and destruction. He had never seen so much death before (and his Iris was changed then. Forever seeing the death of everything).

“George!” Warning. _We need to get out now. Please. George, don't be a hero._

“Go. Take care of my wife.”

And for the first time in Chris's life, he saw George's future. He saw the future that changed everyone else's.

He saw his best friend die. And in return, everyone else lived.

*

Alexander Marcus, now an admiral, stood in the bar, glaring down at Chris's beaten body with disapproval. But Chris was too drunk to care. And he knew, without a doubt that this was the worst thing one can do when one had an Iris. He could see it. His power was going crazy, making him see everything magnified, making him suffer. But he didn't want to care. Ever since the USS Kelvin incident, less than a year ago, his Iris showed him death. His Iris skipped all the future to get to the end. But he didn't want to care about how that man two seats down was going to die in an engine accident. He didn't want to care about how this bar was going to be torn down in two years’ time.

He didn't care about the fact that Alexander Marcus was going to die by having his head crushed by a man that Chris didn't know, didn’t care to know.

“This isn't going to make anything better, son.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I can see your desire and what you desire isn't possible.”

Huh. This was the first time Marcus admitted to having an Iris. Most higher-ups used that to their advantage. Kept their underlings on their toes by not saying anything. Keep them guessing.

“And I can see your death,” Chris told him. “I can see the deaths of everyone. Right before I send people to their missions, I keep seeing their deaths. I keep seeing everyone die. In this place, on the ship, in the academy, _everyone keeps dying_!”

Why couldn't Marcus understand? Everyone's paths were predetermined. There was no reason to try. Everything was going to end, everyone was going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do to change it. The entire world was predetermined before they were born: everyone was going to die. It didn't matter what they did, whether it was heroic or not, whether it made an impact or not. 

There was the smallest pause of silence. Then Marcus said, “Come with me.”

*

They drove together to Iowa. George's old farmhouse. Chris had been there before. And there, they saw two young boys. Two young boys that he had seen once upon a time around Winona. The older of the boys had a future out in the open space. Out in a space colony before he married and had a happy family... before the colony was brutally destroyed and everyone murdered. And the younger boy...

The younger boy had no future.

“He's like George,” Chris found himself breathing. “Just like George...”

And all he could think was George's words. And he realized for the first time that he was wrong. That this was what George had meant. By focusing on everyone's deaths, he had forgotten what it meant to live in the present. He had forgotten what it meant to live for the moment. Because he had almost forgotten that the future could be changed as long as there was someone whose future didn't exist.

If there was someone like George… someone like George’s youngest son… who had no future, then the future could be changed. 

George taught him that.

So with a shaky laugh, he agreed. He agreed to become a First Officer for a ship. And a damned good one he was.

*

Oh the irony. 

Here was the child who had saved Chris's life, lying on a table of a bar in his own blood. Every cadet in the bar had a future: some dead on a random mission, few dead after having a happy life, and one or two here and there with a future of a lifetime (like the female Lieutenant who was looking around with panic bright in her eyes). But the Kirk boy, just like before, just like George, did not have a future.

And that was how Chris knew this was it.

That was how Chris knew this boy would be the best Starfleet would offer.

*

Few days after James Kirk enrolled at Starfleet Academy, Chris found himself wandering through the Hall of Valour. Awards for various heroes hung on the walls: George Kirk, Alexander Marcus, and other heroes from other times, both in the past and yet to come. 

There was one award in particular that he liked to stop by to look at.

It was the award for the crew of USS Enterprise, Captained by James Kirk. Hung in the empty space on the wall in present day.

Of all the futures in the world, he wanted to keep this one the most.

*

Chris saw his own death many years back when an exploration of a planet went wrong and they found a mirror that allowed their Irises to work on the owners. He saw himself walk into a conference with other Captains and their First Officers. He saw the warning red lights. He saw Kirk stand up. Then he saw the explosions before he found himself with Spock, who melded with him to calm him down.

But seeing it and experiencing it are two very different things. 

So instead, he showed Spock of the future he hoped the crew of the Enterprise would have. He showed Spock of the wonderful things that they would doubtlessly find out there. He showed him the adventures, the different and crazy missions. He showed him the awards the crew would get. He showed him their individual accomplishments. He showed him hope.

Because that was what Jim gave him, all those years ago. And someone was going to need to give Jim hope as well. 

Chris just hoped that nothing got lost in the translation.


	3. Leonard McCoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this story is considered finished, but it's technically not. I'm just adding random drabbles to it whenever the mood strikes. ^^''''
> 
> Leonard McCoy's Iris: The ability to see death in the form of butterflies.

Leonard McCoy knew problem when he saw it. Of course he did. That was his Iris. He saw death. It was what made him such a good doctor. He knew when a patient was dying and if any of the treatment he was administering was helping or not. And when he knew the patient wasn’t going to make it, he just moved on. He helped those who could get better, whether they could pay for it or not.

It, unfortunately, made him a horrible father.

“Daddy! We’re doing a project at school!” Joanna exclaimed when she came home from school that day. 

“Oh? What are you doing?”

“We’re going to raise caterpillars and turn them into butterflies!”

Horror struck a chord deep in Leonard and his smile was frozen on his face. “Butterflies…?” he asked, softly and calmly.

“Uh-huh! They’re so pretty! It’s going to be awesome!” Joanna’s excitement was contagious but it did not ease the feeling of terror inside Leonard’s heart. 

Because for him, his Iris showed death in the form of butterflies.

*

“You’re panicking for no reason, Len,” Jocelyn sighed when she heard his concern about Jo’s school project. “For everyone else, butterflies are a positive, happy thing. No one’s going to understand your reluctance if you don’t explain to them what’s wrong.”

“I’ve told you, didn’t I?”

A ghost of a smile flirted across Jocelyn’s face. “I meant telling Jo.”

Leonard smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

*

“Daddy! Daddy! The caterpillar turned into larvae today!” Joanna exclaimed as she ran into the room.

“That’s wonderful,” Leonard said, trying to wake himself up from the short nap he was enjoying. He worked late the night before, and he wanted to catch up on some sleep. But really, given a choice, he would much rather spend time with his daughter.

“They look so weird now,” Joanna continued, speaking with the childish exuberance. She continued on, detailing what she noticed, being a little scientist that she wanted to be when she was older.

But Leonard couldn’t help but freeze. Because as Joanna talked with an easy smile on her face, a grey butterfly fluttered and landed on her shoulder.

“Daddy?” Joanna asked.

Leonard couldn’t even force himself to smile.

*

“Len, you can’t be serious,” Jocelyn exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief. “You think someone’s trying to kill our daughter?”

“Why else would I see it?” he demanded, his fists clenched tightly on the table. “Tell me how else would Joanna be marked for death?”

“Maybe there’s going to be an accident. But whatever happens, you cannot lock Jo in her room and expect her to be okay with it!”

“You don’t understand! _Our daughter is going to die!_ And you want me to just be okay with all of this?”

“No! I want you to be more reasonable with this. Len, I know you’re worried, and I’m worried, too. But you can’t overreact like this.”

Why couldn’t Jocelyn just understand? If they didn’t overreact, Jo wouldn’t be safe! And more than anything in the world, Leonard just wanted his daughter to be safe. Was that too much to ask for?

*

So he followed Joanna around. He always made sure that his daughter was within eyesight. He even took off days from work just to make sure that she was okay. It made Jocelyn groan in annoyance, and the nurses always shot him angry looks now. But no matter what he did, the butterfly followed Joanna around. It stayed on Joanna’s shoulder, flapping its wings and shuffling around. 

And after a few days, there were more.

Leonard felt the world collapse at his feet, despair swallowing him whole. He felt uncertainty and fear claw at his heart, and knew without a doubt that he had to do something. But what? How was he supposed to prevent death when he didn’t even know what he was trying to protect Joanna from? He tried to make Jocelyn understand, but she just didn’t get it. Instead, she became frustrated with him.

As if it was his fault that their daughter might die soon.

As if it was his fault that he actually cared about his daughter. As if she could comprehend what was happening. As if she could just glare the problem away.

“Len, you can’t keep doing this!” she hissed as she pulled him away from angry principle. “You’re scaring people!”

“I’ll stop doing that when _I’m_ not scared!” he growled back, his voice just as angry and filled with a thick southern drawl. “Our baby Joanna could die any minute now!”

“Maybe this wouldn’t happen if you just weren’t here!”

There were certain phrases in the world that you shouldn’t say. There were certain more that you would spend the rest of your life wishing you could take back. But the phrase that Jocelyn spoke wasn’t one of those. And she didn’t regret a single thing after few months, when the divorce papers were signed and Leonard found himself homeless and family-less.

All the while, the grey butterflies continued to gather around their beautiful daughter.

*

“Len, you’re not supposed to be anywhere near us, let alone our daughter,” Jocelyn hissed to him at the crowded café, three days after the divorce.

“I’ll go away once I’m sure that the butterflies are no longer around Jo,” Leonard growled back, just as lowly.

“Len!”

*

It didn’t take long at all for Jocelyn to retaliate. And although it would be a lie if he said he never saw it coming, he really didn’t see _this_ coming.

“You’re taking the whole damned planet?” he exclaimed, looking at her like she was insane.

“Len, it’s the only way to keep our daughter safe. Any other distance would be too short. You need to go off-planet.”

“I’m what’s keeping my daughter safe!”

Jocelyn shook her head, her lips in a thin line. “No,” she said, her voice a cross between grief and anger. “You’re what’s going to kill her.”

*

He didn’t remember how he got there. Didn’t even remember where the alcohol he was holding came from. But he was on a shuttle, yelling at people, trying to tell them of the butterflies of death fluttering all about the shuttle meant to take them to the Starfleet Academy. But no one talked to him. No one would listen. They just told him to stay out of the shuttle if he was so scared of riding. And left.

And died.

The next shuttle that he got on (had to get on. Lost the whole damned planet, remember? Had to get off) was different. There was a man with strangely confident smile, amused by everything. Leonard paid him no mind. Had no reason to. It wasn’t like anything was worth paying attention to anymore.

*

All medical students of Starfleet Academy were required to serve internship at the local hospital. Despite having explained to everyone multiple times that he was a doctor, no one ever put in the necessary paperwork to get Leonard out of the internship program. So there he was, 8 pm in the hospital, rubbing his temples as he was handed a cup of coffee by one of the kind nurses.

“There’s a patient here!” someone said as they carted the familiar blonde in. They explained there was an incident while on a survival course and that the blonde was a victim. There looked to be severe damage to the man, and all the other medical officers began to scramble to help.

Leonard didn’t bother to hurry. There was no need to. There wasn’t a single grey butterfly in sight. 

“Doctor McCoy! Get over here!” someone shouted.

Rolling his eyes at the dramatics, Leonard walked over. And paused. He had never seen this kind of injury before. At least not marred by butterflies. Was this what everyone else saw…?

“Doctor?”

Leonard nodded slowly. “I’m good. Let’s do this.”

*

Four hours later, two hours after the patient was secure, Leonard found himself in the patient’s room, staring down at the grinning man with disapproval.

“Words have it that you saved my life,” the man said.

Leonard nodded. “You’re… different,” he couldn’t help but to say. He wasn’t sure how else to describe it.

“Ah, you mean your Iris not working? Yeah. It’s my Iris,” the man grinned. “It cancels them out.”

“The wounds you had on your body wasn’t all caused from the survival course,” Leonard said finally. “Some of those wounds-”

“They’re old war wounds,” the man cut in quickly. “They’re nothing.”

“Few of them looked pretty recent.” Leonard paused to let that sink in. Then he added, “Not to mention infected.”

“They are?”

Leonard crossed his arms. “Do you even care?”

Then the blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he looked at Leonard with a wicked grin. “Do you?”

*

“Dammit Jim!” Leonard McCoy screamed as the two ran through the survival course. He didn’t even know why he was here. Unlike Jim, who was in the command track, Leonard didn’t need to do this. But there he was anyways, going through the survival training as if his life depended on it (because it did, in a sense). 

Jim howled with laughter as he ran faster, leading Leonard through the twists and turns of the jungle as they dodged the monster chasing them. Leonard kept a close eye out on him. After all, he wouldn’t be able to see whether Jim was hurt or not. So he would always have to keep an eye on him. 

But somehow, Leonard found that he didn’t mind that at all.

*

“So how did it happen?” Jim asked him one evening, while the two were sitting together in Leonard’s dorm room with cheap beers. “Your divorce, I mean. You never explained it.”

Leonard brought the beer to his lips, considering the question carefully. They’ve known each other for the past two years and have shared quite a lot about each other. It wouldn’t be too bad at all to tell Jim….

So he did.

He began at the beginning with his ability, which Jim already knew and vocally made sure that Leonard knew that as well. Then he explained his daughter’s school project and already Jim’s eyes reflected the pain and pity that he surely felt for the doctor. Leonard continued through, with his obsession, with his fierce need to protect his daughter that no one else understood. And he ended with the divorce, wrapping up the story with a nice little bow.

Jim didn’t speak for a while after Leonard was done. Instead, he just took a long gulp from his beer before turning to stare at Leonard.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Leonard asked. He didn’t get it. What did Jim want now?

“How does the story end?”

“It already ended. I lost everything in the divorce. My wife, my job, my kid. And then I lost the planet. What else is there to say?”

“What happened to your daughter? Were you right?”

Leonard froze. It had never occurred to him that that might be part of his own story. He slowly brought down the beer and placed it on the table. He wasn’t even nearly drunk enough for this. But Jim was right. The story was incomplete. So he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“No. Jocelyn was right. My little Jo is healthy and well.” Leonard buried his face in his hands, hiding the tears that gathered together in his eyes. “It was me. My obsessions and my over-protectiveness that drove her closer to death. But once I was gone… She was okay.”

Jim didn’t say anything for the longest time. Instead, he just placed his hand on Leonard’s shoulder, letting him know that the world hadn’t ended. That there was still one more thing to live for.

*

The first time Leonard’s butterflies attained colour was during the Khan incident. Until that moment in time, all of his butterflies of death had been grey. And it should also be known that the butterflies only showed him the death of living things. So there he was at the medbay, during the Khan incident. There had been many butterflies just flapping around, languidly landing here and there as if to ask Leonard “People are dying, Leonard. What are you going to do about it?” 

Then, just as the Enterprise finally seemed to have stabilized, Leonard saw it. 

Bright blue butterfly that fluttered through the halls.

He didn’t think much of it then. It wasn’t like it was going to matter. There were so many people who had died aboard the Enterprise with Khan’s revenge and Admiral Marcus’s hate. What was one more butterfly in the sea of them? 

Leonard would come to regret that moment.

*

His hand trembled as it reached the zipper. Slowly, he unzipped it, afraid of what he was going to find. A blue butterfly fluttered out and Leonard could hear his heartbeat quicken. Could it be….? He unzipped it completely and found himself surrounded by bright blue butterflies before it finally sunk in.

It was Jim.

Jim was dead. That was why Leonard could see the butterfly for him.

His Iris changed forever then. It always showed him coloured butterflies, each colour tailored individually to everyone. His world had gained colour in exchange for the death of his friend.


	4. Hikaru Sulu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sulu/Chekov.
> 
> Hikaru Sulu's Iris: The ability to see attraction in the form of arrows.

His name was Hikaru Sulu and he figured out what his Iris was when he was in Kindergarten. 

Attraction.

The one thing that kindergarteners cared the least about. 

But he figured it out all on his own with his five year old brain. Everyone had arrows over their heads, spinning around and around until it landed on the object of their hated. He knew this because Lindsey’s and Hannah’s arrows pointed at one another, and _everyone_ knew that the two hated each other. They were always pulling each other’s hairs and scratching each other. He knew this because his kindergarten teacher’s arrow never pointed at her fiancé.

He knew because his parents’ arrows always pointed at one another.

Well, that was okay. Because it wasn’t like his parents were lovey-dovey in front of people to begin with. They were always reserved, never speaking to one another more than what was strictly necessary and always limiting their interactions. And when the two got into their usual arguments, always in fierce whispers in Japanese, Hikaru knew to close his eyes and hum loudly in the other room, waiting for the news of divorce.

It never came.

*

It wasn’t until middle school, when hormones started to drive people crazy that Hikaru realized his mistake. 

His Iris didn’t allow him to see attraction in the negative sense. It allowed him to see love, as in who had crush on whom. The arrows pointed towards those the person liked.

With this realization, he suddenly saw everything in a whole new light. He knew who was going to confess to whom before it happened. He knew why some guys suddenly became dumb when in front of girls, and why girls became cold in front of certain boys. He knew when a breakup was going to happen before it did. It didn’t take long before everyone referred to him for expertise.

“I like John, does he like me?” was the type of questions he got on the daily. 

And despite whether he shook his head no or nodded his head yes, he was attacked by a shrill sound of either heartbreak or excitement. 

The popularity got old after three months.

*

There was no reason to keep track of people’s attraction in high school, because it changed nearly hourly. Hikaru was surrounded by seas of turning arrows, and everyone wanted to know every detail. It was annoying and boring and honestly, he really could care less whether Shelly wanted to hook up with Taira one minute and get together with Shawn the next.

Then he came home and saw his parents with their ever-constant arrows, always pointing to one another. Never changing, never wavering. Always loyal. It was heart-warming and grin-inducing. 

He survived high school, always looking forward to seeing his parents’ arrows.

*

Hikaru was always scared of the woman in the park. Her arrow always pointed towards her small yapping dog, and Hikaru really didn’t like what that implied. 

It wasn’t until he mentioned to the group he liked to hang out with that they brought up an interesting point. 

“What if your Iris didn’t just show who has the hots? What if it showed different kinds of love? Like parental love, sibling love, stuff like that?”

Everyone had made faces at the analysis, saying that it was sissy and lame.

Few days later, Hikaru realized that it was true. His Iris was changing. Different shaped arrows implied different kind of attraction.

*

When people die, they left a fingerprint on you, forever reminding you that they had been alive, that they had shared a life with you. It was something that Hikaru’s mother told him when he had been younger and his pet gerbil had crawled under the stove and starved to death. 

It was not something he wanted to be saying at his father’s funeral.

He feared that his mother’s arrow will begin to spin slowly. That one day, it would find another to point at. He had been correct. What he didn’t realize was that it would be pointing at himself, in the form of motherly love.

*

Whoever coined the phrase, “High school never ends,” was right, much to Hikaru’s chagrin. High school did not end, even after walking through the graduation ceremony, diploma in hand. It was there with him in Starfleet Academy. The turning arrows spinning sometimes so fast and so suddenly that he thought he was going to get a whiplash. 

There were few people that he could tolerate, because their arrows did not change so wildly and suddenly. One of those was an old doctor whose name Hikaru never remembered because he was always being referred to as “Bones” by the blonde he hung out with. Bones’s arrows never fluctuated much. It was either pointing at the nearest bar or anywhere away from any starships or sometimes far away beyond any of the buildings and any of the people near here (Hikaru figured it was some kind of sweetheart that the doctor left behind), and on some rare occasions at the blonde as well. But the blonde…

Despite having slept with most of the campus, never showed any sign of arrows. As if he wasn’t attracted to anything, whether it be lustfully or platonically. Despite talking about wanting to captain not just any starship, but the Enterprise specifically, the arrow never showed up. Despite having such a fond smile on his face over Bones or few others that they hung out with, he never had any arrow. Despite flirting with that one specific girl, always asking her for her first name, the arrow never showed up either.

Hikaru found it much more interesting than keeping track of who liked whom for quick popularity.

*

There was a cute boy in his basics class whose arrow always pointed at the mathematical formulas he carried around. Until one day, Hikaru stood up in front of the class and gave a detailed and well-researched presentation on the importance of partnership between the Helmsman and the Navigator. The boy looked up from his formulas and, as if he hadn’t realized that Hikaru was in his class until that day, the arrow over his head slowly turned to point at Hikaru.

Hikaru had plenty of times when someone’s arrow pointed towards him. But it was the first time that someone looked him in the eyes, smiled brightly and announced, “I found you.”

*

The Starfleet Academy in San Francisco was the largest Academy on earth. That meant that, unless you were trying super hard to meet up with someone, the chances of it actually happening was near zero. It was the reason why he only saw Bones and his blonde perhaps once in a month, if he was lucky. He also rarely saw his roommate, a big guy with huge revulsion to cupcakes, and they even lived with one another.

So when he realized that he saw a flicker of angelic curls or a flash of overly excited energy rushing by, or when he realized that he heard the faint Russian accent and he saw the flicker of the familiar arrow pointing at himself, that was when he realized that he had a shadow.

The boy never approached Hikaru. Always stayed out, just past his senses. 

Hikaru grew used to it after a while.

*

“Hi,” came the soft whisper of a voice Hikaru had just heard as snippets of whispers here and there. 

Hikaru looked up to the wide, innocent eyes of the cute boy. “Hi,” he said.

“I’m Pavel,” the boy said, his voice still soft. It obscured his thick Russian accent, Hikaru couldn’t help but to notice. Instead of voicing it out loud, he just nodded slowly.

“Sulu.”

They stared at one another, Hikaru uncertain of what to say and Pavel grinning widely. 

“So I see you’ve stopped stalking me,” Hikaru said finally.

“You _noticed_?” Pavel whispered, his eyes widening in admiration. Hikaru really didn’t like this.

“Uh, look. Kid. I-”

“Pavel,” he corrected.

Sighing, Hikaru nodded. “Pavel. Look, what’s your deal? Why are you following me?”

“I had to study you,” Pavel explained, looking at Hikaru with wide and innocent eyes. “Before I decided to approach you or not.”

Study…? “And why do you have to approach me?”

Pavel grinned widely, as if he had been just waiting for that question. “Because we are destiny!”

Hikaru couldn’t help himself. He laughed. Because he had seen many things, but there was no such thing as destiny. The only unwavering pair of arrows had been his parents’, and those were the exception, not the norm. Everyone’s arrows changed, turned, and morphed. There was no destiny. He made that as clear as he could to the little Russian, but Pavel just didn’t seem to understand.

“But we are destiny,” he told Hikaru.

But the Asian just snorted and shooed the child away.

*

This was starting to become worrisome. Hikaru had not only warned the boy away, but had also reported him to the administration. But because the kid was some kind of a genius, they just patiently (and later, very impatiently) explained to Hikaru that it was just because Pavel didn’t know how else to try and communicate with him. Then they chided Hikaru for being childish and told him to expand his mind and friendship circle.

They could only say this because they weren’t being stalked day and night by (admittedly cute but) a psychopath with just one track mind. Pavel appeared wherever Hikaru was with a bright smile and a “Didn’t expect to see you here!” in a chipper voice that told Hikaru that it was a lie. Pavel came to Hikaru’s dorm room with cookies and other assorted junk food to declare that he wanted a sleepover. Pavel followed Hikaru around, and worst of all, everyone else on the campus thought they were the cutest thing.

All throughout, Pavel’s arrow never wavered, and Hikaru felt the beginnings of fear gnawing in his stomach.

*

The news spread throughout the campus like wildfire. The genius of the Engineering department was changing his speciality to command. Specifically, to Navigator. Hikaru didn’t have to speak to anyone to feel the accusing glares thrown at him by the officials. He was ruining Pavel’s chances of success.

Hikaru whirled around on Pavel, eyes wide and confusion stitched on his face. “Why the hell did you switch? You were about to graduate as a top-notch Engineer! You would have been the best! You would have been put on a starship and you would have been able to travel! Why did you switch?”

“Because you von’t beliewe me,” Pavel answered, defiant. He puffed out his small chest and held his head up. “I’m going zo vork until I become your Nawigator.”

The arrow pointed straight at Hikaru, never wavering, and Hikaru found himself wanting to cry, to shout, because didn’t Pavel get it? Pavel was driving him crazy with this! There was no such thing as destiny, no such thing as unwavering arrows, because humans were creatures of change. And as much as they got used to habits and hated deviating from it, they loved and thrived on the thrill of change. Soon enough, Pavel was going to get tired and he was going to leave. Hikaru knew that.

But damn it, his heart started pounding and his face flushed red, because he was starting to believe in that stupid promise of a kid.

*

It didn’t take long for the entire Starfleet to be flipped on its head when they realized just how amazing of a Navigator Pavel could be. Sulu listened, half in disbelief and half in quiet admiration, as he overheard the rumours of Pavel’s future. The Navigator of the USS Enterprise when she became ready for her maiden voyage. 

Pavel had memorized more than a third of the star charts, which was more than anyone else ever did. He was able to incorporate mathematical formulas, star charts, and innate knowledge. And perhaps what scared everyone was the way Pavel was able to navigate any ship given to him, destroying any records of old veterans. Natural talent, they said. Perhaps it was a good thing that Pavel left the Engineering Department for the Command…

He refused all positions offered to him. He refused everything: promotions, offers for better life, everything. And instead, he showed up on Hikaru’s doorsteps, smiling innocently. As if nothing else mattered.

Hikaru wished he could disappear. He was still stuck trying to get through Command classes and here was Pavel, looking at him with a bright smile, his entire future ahead of him. 

He lost track of all the times he slammed the door in Pavel’s face. But the arrow never wavered and Pavel kept coming back. It didn’t take long for Hikaru just let Pavel in. They just sat together and watched old movies. They talked about partnership between Navigator and Helsman. It was fun. And after a while, Hikaru let go of his jealousy and grief and just let himself have fun.

*

When Nero attacked Vulcan, Hikaru was not assigned to the Enterprise. He had barely been allowed to fly ships and here was Pavel putting his foot down refusing to Navigate for anyone other than Hikaru. Since it was just a small no-name mission, they had no problem of switching Hikaru in. After all, the one who was supposed to be there was sick, so it was an easy thing to do.

Then everything changed.

Everything turned out to be much more than just a simple rescue mission. Everything got crazy in matter of minutes and all the arrows kept turning around and around…

But throughout it all, Pavel’s arrow pointed at Hikaru and Hikaru knew that things were going to be alright.

*

“Vhere are ve going?” Pavel asked as Hikaru grinned back at him. They held their hands as Hikaru led Pavel through the streets that he grew up in. 

“Trust me, it’s going to be awesome,” Hikaru promised.

They walked through the memories of spinning arrows. But through the haze, Hikaru could see the lighthouse of Pavel’s arrow, always pointing straight at him.

*

“So he’s the one?” 

Hikaru glanced up at his mother’s soft smiles. Then he looked over and saw Pavel as he scratched his head, trying to figure out the baking instructions. Genius at everything he touched except for cooking. It was adorable beyond belief, and Hikaru couldn’t help but to smile as well.

“Yeah. He’s the one.”

*

Hikaru Sulu did not believe in destiny. He did not believe in arrows that did not spin. 

But he believed in Pavel Chekov.

And that was enough for now.


End file.
